What If?
by Snapescape
Summary: What if Harry had confronted Snape after the Trelawney revelation? "Harry could barely breathe as he felt red hot anger surge through him  ...  Severus Snape was in this very castle. He had to get to him. Now." FIRST TRY AT FANFICTION!
1. Revelation

This is my very first piece of fan-fiction. I have never published anything before so I apologise in advance. I tried to keep Harry and Snape in character. Please let me know what you think!

The idea of this story was born from a discussion with a fellow Snape fan.

Harry could barely breathe as he felt red hot anger surge through him. His surroundings began to swim before his eyes. The medieval tapestries seemed to sway on the walls, the firm stone flooring to slant at an odd angle and the candles in the brackets to flash sharply. Shaking violently, Harry leant against the wall and closed his eyes. He willed himself to make sense of what Trelawney had just told him.

Snape. Severus teacher he'd despised the most at Hogwarts ever since his first lesson 6 years ago. This man was responsible for tearing his family apart. This man was the one who had relayed the information about his parents to Voldemort. He was the one who had allowed Voldemort to break into his home and kill his mother and father. All this time Harry had been living in the same castle as him. For all these years he had stared into those loathing coal-black eyes, with mutual dislike towards the man. But what he thought to be hatred at the time was nothing compared to what he was feeling right now.

Perhaps it was a mixture of shock and exhaustion but Harry was suddenly filled with a sudden urge to cry. He slipped down onto the hard floor, his head still spinning violently and his body still shaking. He wept loudly, the tears free falling down his cheeks. He had never cried like this before. Not even when Sirius died. He barely noticed Trelawney's figure retreating up the corridor, apparently unable to understand the incredible reaction to her storytelling. Harry didn't care. Everything else seemed unimportant, even laughable, next to this. He thought of the Mirror of Erised he had encounted in his first year. He remembered the welcoming faces of his parents, the green eyes so similar to his own and his father's warm smile. He thought of the hope and surge of love and affection he had felt for them …

But then Harry felt the familiar prickle on his forehead. It was like an alarm ringing out in his head, pulling him back to his senses, back to reality. Severus Snape was in this very castle. He had to get to him. Now.

Adrenaline pumped through his body as one single thing went through his mind: find Snape. Like the urge to cry, Harry felt the sudden irrepressible desire to scream. He yelled his lungs out, oblivious to the fearful looks on the faces of the inhabitants in the tapestries. Still shaking; Harry turned on his heels and began running towards the dungeon.

He was hurtling along corridor after corridor, staircase after staircase, numb to the angry voices of the students he pushed out of his way and the looks on their faces. It felt like he was in a parallel universe. Hogwarts, his friends, Ginny, nothing else mattered to him right now apart from Snape. Trelawney's words were still ringing in his ears as he crossed the Great Hall and teared open the door leading to the dungeons. He was running full-pelt down the familiar gloomy passageways.

Before he knew it, he was kicking down Snape's office door and screaming:

"YOU MURDERER!"


	2. Revenge

**Thank you for all your reviews! I really appreciate it. I've had quite a few queries about the "Snape reaction" but nonetheless, here is the second chapter. And hopefully, a third will be on its way :)**

**Just one little change I have to mention. In the last chapter, Harry runs into Snape's office. I have changed the location to the Potions classroom for narrative purposes.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>"YOU MURDERER!" Harry screamed.<p>

Snape's head snapped up from the simmering cauldron he was standing over as Harry barged into the dimly-lit potions classroom. Caught off-guard, Snape misjudged the amount of asphodel roots he was pouring into the potion. A purple smoke began to rise from the coal-black cauldron and there was a distinct noise of spluttering, as if its contents were about to explode.

Harry ignored this. Why on earth would he care about anything apart from the man who stood in front of him now? Full of loathing and anger, Harry sent his first stunning spell at Snape but it was easily blocked. The cauldron was bubbling dangerously now. However, the two were too busy to pay attention to anything else apart from each other.

Harry sent curse after curse flying in his direction, most of them missing their target. It was difficult to aim, his hands were shaking uncontrollably and his anger was blurring his senses. But he didn't stop. No, he wanted to hurt this man. Harry wanted Severus Snape to feel the pain he had had to endure because of him. He was full of rage, full of hurt.

"POTTER! What on earth …" Snape began but he didn't have time to finish as Harry cried:

"CRUCIO!"

Snape deflected the spell causing a large jar of beetle eyes to fall to the floor. Harry could tell that Snape was shocked that he would dare use an Unforgivable against him. For a brief second, Harry paused. He saw the shock in his professor's eyes. He remembered Bellatrix's words when he had first attempted the spell last year at the Ministry. "You need to _mean_ them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain!" And Harry knew exactly what she meant now. He had never wanted anything in his life more than he did now. At once, he sent another a curse right at Snape. And then another. But time and time again, Snape deflected them onto shelves, desks and walls. Bottles began to smash and send glass flying in all directions and jars to spill their slimy contents onto the floor.

"CRUCIO, CRUCIO, CRUCIO!" Harry was furiously yelling, still attempting to curse the man he hated so much and not caring that he was destroying the classroom. He was conscious that most of the castle would be awake by now because of the noise. But still, he fought on. Despite all this, Snape did not try to stop Harry from attacking him. He prevented the curses from hitting him, causing his black robes to billow this way and that. But he did not respond to the Unforgivables. In front of him, the cauldron bubbled furiously. It was now emanating violent red fumes. Harry could not understand why Snape was reacting this way, why he wasn't responding to his fury. It only caused his anger to mount even more.

"FIGHT BACK, YOU COWARD!" But fight back Snape did not.

It began to dawn on Harry that he had long lost the advantage of surprise. Unexpectedly, he stopped sending curses. His sides were hurting from running down the corridors and the (foolish) wand-waving in the potions class. He dared not turn away from Snape. No, he kept his green eyes firmly fixed on his target and saw the difference in the coal-black eyes. So usually full of arrogance and coldness, there now lingered shock, confusion and … Harry couldn't quite figure out what that last sentiment was. Could it possibly be ... pain?

Snape lowered his wand gingerly. He did not say anything but did not take his probing eyes of the boy. He opened his mouth as if to speak but Harry beat him to it:

"How could you?" His head was aching terribly now and his breathing was still heavy. He pushed himself on. His voice was coarse with emotion. "You passed on the prophecy to Voldemort all those years ago. You made him come and kill them. If you hadn't said anything they would still be alive. You're the reason they're DEAD!" Harry shouted the last word and sent another curse at Snape. This time, the professor was unprepared. He was violently thrown backwards against the cold dungeon wall.

It was right then that the cauldron exploded and sent its contents flying all over the chaotic classroom.


	3. Longing

**Thank you for reviewing, I really appreciate all the feedback! Here's another chapter as promised. It's slightly different to the other two so please tell me what you think :) Another chapter to come soon, hopefully!**

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><p>Harry was standing on the edge of a valley. Below him, a small river snaked its way along stones and pebbles. On either side were trees that swayed softly in the evening breeze. All around him lay deserted plains and hills of green and yellow, bathed in the fading sunlight. It was sunset, his favourite time of day, and the sky was a merge of crimson, orange and blue. The beauty of the location was inexpressible. It was the closest thing to perfection Harry had ever set eyes upon and, as the cool breeze ruffled his untidy hair, he closed his eyes, feeling an absolute sense of calm like he had never felt before settle over him. He couldn't remember how he had got here or even why he stood overlooking this striking valley. Am I dead? he thought. Harry figured that the questions inside his head were trivial. All he knew right then was that he didn't want to leave this place.<p>

Harry felt a hand grip his shoulder from behind that made him jump. He spun around, surprised at the sudden contact and frustrated that someone should spoil a perfect moment such as this. His eyes flew open to take in the intruder that stood before him.

It was a man. He had soft-brown eyes that seemed to radiate in the evening sun and dark messy hair that was slightly ruffled at the back. A smile played at the man's lips as he gazed down at the now 16-year-old boy.

-"Alright, son?" were his words, spoken in a deep baritone.

Elation coursed through Harry. He was speechless. How was this possible? How could this be happening? He must have died, he concluded. The detail in the hills before and around him, the yellowish grass swaying in the wind, the cool breeze in his neck, these things felt too real to be a dream. Heaven, then, Harry mused. But this hardly mattered really. In fact, it seemed unimportant to him right then because before him, stood his father. And his father, who was still grinning down at him after relinquished the hold on his shoulder, appeared to be very much real, he was sure of that.

-"Dad?" Harry breathed as he took a tentative step forward. James Potter nodded and continued to beam. It was then that Harry realized they were not alone on this hillside. He heard the soft padding of feet and rustling of grass that told him someone else was joining them.

Her bright red hair swayed as she parted the high grasses towards them. Like James, she was glowing in the sunset. In moments, she was next to them and her beautiful emerald eyes found Harry's. Silent tears began to free fall down his cheeks as he took in the sight before him. He managed to croak "mum" with a voice coarse with emotion and love, before he welcomed his mother's embrace as she wrapped her arms around his teenage frame. Harry could not remember ever having felt so protected. Protected from _everything_. He stood there, in his mother's arms, and decided that he never wanted to move. He wanted this moment to go on forever. Whole. The empty void in him that he had felt for so many years like when he saw the tenderness in Mrs Weasley's eyes as she congratulated Ron on becoming a prefect had been filled by his father and mother's presence.

Harry wanted to talk but couldn't find the right words. What could he say after all this time? It was too much to take in. He was, somehow, miraculously, reunited with his mother and father. He couldn't comprehend how. A reunion like this is what he had always wanted. He briefly remembered the mirror he had so longingly gazed upon in his first year at Hogwarts, hoping that one day, he would be able to touch and to feel his parents once more.

Lily gently pulled away and cupped her son's face in her hand, softly stroking his tear-stricken cheeks. Harry saw his own eyes reflected in her own as she traced the area over where he knew his lightning-bolt scar to be.

- "Gone, forever" she whispered, smiling. Harry was confused at her gesture and choice of words. But then his own fingers found the spot on his forehead. He was surprised to feel only soft skin. There was no scar. There was no Voldemort. There was no more fear. James laughed at his son's confused and awestruck face. The sound of his laugh was like music to Harry's ears. He realized that he did not only share the physical traits with his father. Harry felt a smile spread across his face and he was temporarily oblivious to the change in the scenery around him.

Lily's face seemed to blur and Harry briefly thought that he might have dropped his glasses. He lifted a hand up to his face only to realise they were still firmly on his nose. Yet still, his mother's features was going more and more out of focus and his father's smile began to distort. His parents started to swim before his eyes. Before he knew it, the valley, the river, the sky started to merge together into a strange pattern. The wind had stopped blowing and ruffling his hair. Everything began to spin uncontrollably. And then, everything went black.

Harry opened his eyes onto a seemingly unusual scene. The potions classroom, it seemed, had been turned upside-down. Jars had been smashed and they littered the stone flooring, revealing their foul contents and filling the room with a nauseating smell. Desks were upturned and stools were smashed. And a purple liquid lay splattered over various objects and pieces of furniture. Harry groaned, trying to make sense of the situation. How had he got here? Why did the potions classroom look like a bomb had just hit it? He groaned as he tried to sit up, realizing his head ached terribly. He lifted a hand up to his forehead and felt the familiar rough scar. He must been knocked out, he thought. But for how long?

He must have been dreaming about his parents. Yet, it had all felt so real and so vivid. He had dreamt of his parents before, certainly, but never like this. Harry had never felt a pang of longing so strong as he remembered his parents glowing faces, the feel of his mother's protective arms around him, his father's laugh so similar to his own …

A low rasping sound interrupted his thoughts and he looked around the chaotic classroom trying to find the origin. It sounded like someone breathing heavily. Suddenly, a low groan. It was coming from the far end of the room where something was moving behind the dilapidated desk covered in the purple substance. Harry strained his eyes to try and make out what it was. A man stirring against the dungeon wall. Severus Snape.

And then it all came back to him. The revelation about Snape and his parents, how he, Harry, had barged into the classroom, attempted to hex him. He remembered having successfully stunned him before ... the potion exploded. That must be what the purple substance was on the floor.

Harry felt hatred surge through him once more.


	4. Pain

**I can't thank you guys enough for your kind words and feedback. It's very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a bit more action-packed :)**

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><p>Severus Snape didn't seem to have noticed Harry's presence or felt his eyes bore into him from the middle of the chaotic room. He was just coming to his senses as he moaned and groaned with obvious pain and confusion. He pulled out his wand to rid himself of the purple grime that had splattered onto his beloved black robes. Some of the liquid also partially covered his hooked nose and sallow cheeks. As Snape began scourgifying himself, Harry knew this was exactly the distraction he needed and didn't wait any longer as he cried<p>

-"EXPELLIARMUS!"

Snape's wand flew out of his hand and landed a mere few feet away from where Harry was now standing. The potions professor was taken completely off-guard by the sudden spell and froze momentarily, seemingly unsure of what to do. Finally, he looked up to see who his disarmer was. A flicker of recognition seemed to cross his coal-black eyes as he took in the sight of the injured, potion-stained boy before him. Snape must also have briefly forgotten the events that happened prior to them both having been knocked out, Harry mused. He also fleetingly wondered if Snape had experienced vivid dream similar to his own whilst he was passed out. He was quick to brush this sudden thought aside. After all, Snape was just a cold, heartless bastard.

Harry made no movement as of yet to collect the dark wand that lay mere feet from his feet but merely stood staring at Snape. Images of his parents from just moments before kept flashing before his eyes. Harry was still slightly dazed from the dream but the clear memories of Lily and James only fuelled his anger even more. Snape, meanwhile, still said nothing and this struck Harry as very bizarre.

Slowly, Snape eased himself up from his slouching position against the cold dungeon wall. Despite being wandless and infirm, he was still trying to maintain his usual haughty air and deadpan expression. But his facial features were contorted in pain because of his fall. Snape looked very much a different man. His stance was uneasy as he leant on dungeon wall. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes, grimacing. Like Harry who was now swaying on his own two feet, he had been hurt by the violent explosion.

Harry had never seen Snape like this. He was so used to his scornful air and his swift movements. Yet now, the man he despised stood before him in a rather decrepit state. He couldn't help feeling a certain pity for Severus Snape. However, just as soon as this thought crossed Harry's mind, he remembered the reason why he was there. He felt the familiar burning sensation in his stomach and hate for Snape.

Harry and Snape stood facing each other, both slightly marred from the potion and the previous events. Both rather disoriented from the explosion. Both somewhat unsure of what to do next. Needless to say that they had never found themselves in a situation quite like the one before them right now and the usual school protocol seemed superfluous at that moment. Detention with Filch, house points reduction and even full-out exclusion didn't seem to have their place in these circumstances. They both knew they were passed all that and this matter could not be solved by way of school punishments.

It was the Potions professor who spoke first, in a low and weak drawl that still detained a certain menace in it.

- "Potter", he began. His voice seemed to reverberate off the dungeon walls, cutting through the silence like a knife and making Harry's head throb."Your actions this evening have struck me as …"

But once again, he was unable to finish as Harry interrupted him. Harry had no time for what he believed would be apprehending for his actions of that evening. That he had attacked a teacher and attempted to torture him hardly mattered to him right then. This man was not his abhorred potions teacher but simply the man who was responsible for the murder of his parents by Lord Voldemort.

- "What was in it for you?" Harry's voice was unusually low. He raised is outstretched arm and pointed the tip of his wand at Snape's chest where he knew his cold heart to be beating. Slowly, he advanced towards him. Although every step sent a searing pain through his back and made his head throb even more, Harry knew he must get to him. He must close the gap between the fallen Snape and his wand. His feet led the way over the clutter of debris that covered the stone floor.

- "Glory?" Harry probed. "How great it must have been to earn a spot as Voldemort's esteemed servant. Or maybe you just did it out of hate? Hate for my father because he despised you at school. Or hate for my mother, the _mudblood_?" Harry was not far from Snape now, his wand still pointing at his chest. He could see the fear in his enemy's eyes. "Every single day I have to live with the fact that I will never be able to see her again and that's all because of you!"

Then, everything happened in a blur. The mention of Lily seemed to awake something inside of Snape. He seemed to jump out of his stupor as he shouted:

"DON'T YOU THINK I REGRET IT?"

Harry was violently thrown off his feet and sent clattering against a hard desk. He barely had time to register the shock as Snape swept across the classroom to pick up his wand. He pointed it towards Harry. His whole body was shaking. Neither one of them could move. Pain fogged their brains. Surprise clogged Harry's. He tried to make sense of Snape's words.

-"What do you mean?" he demanded.

Snape stared intently at the boy. His face, usually the mask of impassiveness, was alive with emotions. Pain, physical and mental, were carved into his strong features.

-"I meant exactly what I said, Potter. I have never regretted anything in my life more than the night I passed on the prophecy to the Dark Lord".

Harry had not been expecting that. He knew that an apology from Snape didn't change anything to what he had done. It couldn't bring his parents. His mother and his father, they were still dead. In that sense, it was useless. But never in his 6 years of knowing Snape had he ever heard him apologise. About anything. He wanted to know why he had done it. He wanted to know his reasons. His anger was still present but a sense of curiosity that he was so akin to had taken over him.

Snape's wand was still pointed shakily at Harry's chest.

Just then, a calm and collected voice spoke from behind them both, preventing any further action.

- "Severus, lower your wand please."

They both spun around to find Dumbledore standing at the doorway.

His eyes looked grave behind his moon-shaped glasses. The contrast of this calm persona against the chaotic classroom was almost comical. Harry let his hand fall to his side.

Dumbledore took one step into the room and waved his wand. Beetles eyes, bezoar stones and slimy-looking ingredients flew back into mended jars and vials. Tables fixed themselves and cracks were repaired. Slowly, the classroom was turned back to its usual self.

He walked towards the exploded cauldron and muttered "evanesco". Harry noticed a look of deep sadness cross the Headmaster's features as the purple contents disappeared into thin air. However, his face had regained its composure as he turned towards Harry.

- "Harry, I think it is time you came with me" Harry dared not contradict him and stood up. The pain seemed to tear the very skin off his back. Dumbledore seemed to notice Harry's discomfort.

- "I shall make sure Madam Pomfrey gives you something for the pain". He turned to Snape who looked aghast at the whole situation. His eyes were kind as he spoke to him, softly.

- "Severus, I shall have a word with you later. Until then, I suggest you rid yourself of the substance on your clothing". Severus confusedly glanced down to see that he was still covered in the purple liquid. He nodded and made his way towards an adjoining door. Harry concluded this to be his private quarters.

Before he knew it, he was gone and he, Harry, had been unable to confront him about his last words. Harry was about to open his mouth to speak before Dumbledore stared down his nose and for the first time since his arrival, smiled knowingly.

-"I know, Harry. But for now, come with me."

Harry had no choice in the matter and followed the Headmaster out of the potions classroom.


	5. Light

**I'm sorry for the long wait since the previous chapter. I really am. I've been pretty busy in my life, to be honest. I do hope this chapter lives up to expectations! :) Hopefully, there will be a new chapter uploaded by the end of the month.**

**Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and favourited this story so far – it means a lot!**

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><p>Harry Potter walked out of the Hospital Wing, in better physical shape than he had been in moments before. Madam Pomfrey had as usual fussed over the boy when Dumbledore brought him to her. By then, the wise old man's calming aura had dissipated and Harry had once again felt the need to purge himself of the grief and anger inside of him. The need to shout his feelings was almost too much to bear. However, he had been unable to do so because, it appeared, Dumbledore had cast a rather clever spell over him. Harry's throat felt clenched from the inside, like an invisible clutch was stopping him from uttering a single word. Throughout his brief visit to the school nurse, he had remained completely mute. But there was a real angry battle being fought within him.<p>

The Headmaster had politely asked madam Pomfrey to give Harry a concoction for the pain and an ointment for his injuries. He had not gone into specific detail about how Harry had been inflicted the bruises on his backs, or the painful cuts in his arms and legs, nor had he mentioned why Harry was splattered with the purple potion (despite her experience as Healer, Madam Pomfrey had been unable to identify the thick substance). Dumbledore thought it best to avoid any further complaint from the school nurse. But Madam Pomfrey was in fact used to treating injured students without knowing the reason behind their damage. She had been doing it for years, after all. And so, after a brew of pepper-up potion and various foul-tasting liquids, Harry had been restored to almost full health. Physically, he could now walk without the sharp pain tearing through his back. He could also stretch his arms without the burning sensation. Mentally, on the other hand, his mind was still going over and over Snape's actions and what he had said to him. He was always reminded of the poignant dream, or what he now believed to be a dream, after he had passed out.

-"Thank you, Poppy" Dumbledore smiled gratefully as he followed Harry out of the big oak-panelled doors. Harry thought he heard Madam Pomfrey mutter something to herself as she returned to her office in a huff. They now both stood outside the Hospital Wing in silence.

The old wizard turned to Harry and there lingered a apologetic expression on his face:

- "You'll have to excuse me for the silencing charm, Harry. I couldn't have you releasing your anger in front of dear Madam Pomfrey. It would have been most complicated and long-winded to explain. Now, I promise you that as soon as we reach my office, you will be able to scream as much as you judge necessary". Dumbledore ended this statement with a reassuring smile before turning swiftly and beginning his way along the corridor. Meanwhile, Harry felt like he would burst at any minute. He had to to scream. His heart was racing and blood was pounding in his head. Yet, he still had enough sense within him to know that somehow, Dumbledore was right. This was between him, Snape and Dumbledore now. He didn't want anyone else involved in this. Harry realized he had no choice but to follow the Headmaster up the moving staircases, past the tapestries on the wall and towards the stone gargoyle.

They walked past portraits of bickering goblins examining a golden shield, gruesome hags leaning over a black cauldron and valiant knights dining at banquets. The thin man's deep plum robes swept the stone flooring as they strode towards his office. Dumbledore, completely composed and betraying no sign of unease. Harry, clenching his fists and screaming in his head. The castle was still and free of the hustle and bustle of students. Through his anger and confusion, this struck Harry as odd. Surely the students must have heard the loud noise coming from the dungeons? He had positively destroyed the potions classroom not to mention yelled the spells he had cast at Snape. What time was it? How long had he been knocked out? He felt so disoriented. Everything felt so unreal, so nightmarish.

Dumbledore seemed to sense the teenager's puzzlement and the corner of his mouth twitched as he said:

-"I cast a silencer charm on the dungeons as soon as I was aware of what was going on. Being Headmaster has its advantages. It is now just gone midnight and I'm afraid everyone has returned to their respected dormitories." He paused. "I didn't want to wake you from you ... ah ... slumber. I shall explain soon enough." He mumbled something inaudible to himself.

Harry couldn't understand how he could be so calm. He knew Dumbledore's disposition to be very composed in times of peril but he, Harry, had just attacked his potions professor. He had attempted to torture him! He had destroyed his classroom! It was almost as if Dumbledore had been expecting his actions, like they were normal. This only increased Harry's confusion. He wanted answers, and he wanted them right NOW. He had done his waiting!

Eventually, they arrived in front of the great stone gargoyle. "Jelly bean" Dumbledore announced. The gargoyle leaped aside and they made their way onto the revolving staircase.

Harry did not take in any of the Headmaster's office as Dumbledore made his way to his desk and sat down behind it. Had he done so, he would have seen that all of the portraits of past Headmasters were wide awake and watching him with attentive looks. Some looked upon him with surprise, others with wonder. And, in Phineas Nigellus's case, with revulsion. Dumbledore gestured to the familiar seat in front of his desk:

-"Please, take a seat". Harry made his way to it, dazed. He had sat in this seat so many times over the past few years. He had discovered so many things. He had sat in this seat after killing the basilisk in his second year. He had sat in this seat when he had found out about the prophecy last year, how neither him nor Voldemort could live whilst the other lived. And this year, he had sat in this seat when Dumbledore had revealed to him the secret of the horcruxes. All these memories flitted through Harry's brain. Today, he would be revealed something else. Something of a different nature. Something which felt right then much more important than all the rest.

Suddenly, Harry's was aware of a loosening in his throat. His voice did not feel clogged anymore and the invisible clasp was gone. Dumbledore had cast the counter-charm and now, finally, Harry could ask the questions that were eating away at him.

Remarkably, Harry felt unsure of where to start. Surprisingly, he found himself speaking his first words of the evening to the Headmaster in a very soft tone, restraining himself from a previously imminent outburst.

-"He killed them. Snape killed my parents."

It wasn't a question, it was a fact.

The words seemed to hang in the room for a few seconds. Neither of them spoke. There was a sharp intake of breath from Armando Dippet, who was just visible over the Headmaster's left shoulder. Dumbledore shook his head, his striking blue eyes sympathetic behind the half-moon spectacles.

-"No, Harry. Snape did not kill your parents. That was Lord Voldemort's doing".

Harry felt like Dumbledore was mocking him. He had of course meant that Snape's actions had lead to his parent's murder. Dumbledore was speaking to him like he was stupid, like he was just a child! Like he was still the 12 year old boy who had been found gazing into the mirror of Erised! Harry lost all control as soon as these words were uttered and leapt up from his chair and kicking it, caused it to clatter to the floor.

-"IT WAS HIS FAULT!" he shouted. "MY PARENTS ARE DEAD. THEY ARE GONE. FOREVER. DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? IT'S BECAUSE OF HIM! BECAUSE OF SNAPE!" Hatred coursed through his veins as he strode across the room. Red flashed before his eyes. He lunged at some probably very valuable contraptions on shelves, making them fall and shatter. But it didn't help him feel any better. He could hear people shouting in alarm and in shock from the portraits all around the room. Shaking, he turned to face Dumbledore, who had not moved an inch since Harry's outburst.

-"HOW CAN YOU SIT THERE SO CALMLY WHEN I HAVE JUST TOLD YOU THAT SNAPE, THE MAN _YOU_ HIRED, KILLED MY PARENTS! DO THEY MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?" He yelled the last part with all the force he could muster.

Very slowly, Albus Dumbledore raised his burnt hand to stop Harry from speaking. Harry took no notice and found a spindly table which he violently threw across the circular office. Glass shattered.

-"Listen to me" Dumbledore spoke quietly, apparently unconcerned by the destruction of his office. But still Harry ignored him and continued smashing and breaking his mentor's pride possessions. It was his way of coping with the pain. He had to let it all out.

-"Harry, please, listen" This time the words were spoken in a firmer tone, a tone that makes you stop what you are doing. Harry clenched his fists and looked at Dumbledore. The man he thought made all the right decisions. The great man that he thought was so special. Now, he realized how human, how weak he was. His chest heaved and there was a painful throbbing in his temple as he willed himself to calm down. Dumbledore began with a sigh:

-"I cannot deny that I have known this for some time". Again, there was an apologetic expression in his eyes. "I know the actions he committed 16 years ago. I know that he listened at the key-hole during Professor Trelawney's job interview. And I know that Professor Snape did indeed pass on the information to Lord Voldemort. Harry, I cannot deny that" His eyes glinted in the candlelight. Harry still stood in the middle of the room, unsure of how to act. He found that he was clutching his wand in his pocket and loosened his grip.

-"However, I can only hazard a guess at the true reasons for his actions. Curiosity perhaps? Eagerness to impress? They are both highly plausible. But I am not the man to tell you this. It is Professor Snape and Professor Snape only who you can choose whether or not to impart the information …

-"IMPART THE INFORMATION?" Harry burst. "HE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR MY PARENTS LYING BURIED IN A GRAVE RIGHT NOW! WHY DID HE DO IT?"

And then grief seemed to get the best of Harry as his voice suddenly turned to a feeble croak:

-"He told me he regretted killing them …

Dumbledore raised his hand again. Harry stopped talking and looked up at the man. Anticipation filled the air.

-"Harry, I beg you to let me finish what I have to tell you" He rose from his chair with a sigh and walked towards the perch where Fawkes stood wise and wizened. "I am certain that Professor Snape regrets the night he told Lord Voldemort about the prophecy. This is what he told you when you confronted him, am I correct?"

Harry nodded.

-"The reason for his regret is understandable. However, there is another reason. But Professor Snape has my word that I will not divulge it. Not under any circumstances" he added, as Harry opened his mouth to protest violently. He continued:

-"But know this, Harry. Professor Snape suffers every day because of his actions. I cannot tell you anymore but I want you to fully understand that although what he did was incontrovertible and foolish, Professor Snape is and always will be, sorry."

Harry didn't speak as he let this sink in. He could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on him. His anger was still present and bubbled on the surface but it had receded somewhat. He now felt that familiar feeling of curiosity creep over him. He yearned to know the true reason of why Snape passed on the information to Voldemort. And what was the other reason for his deep regret that Dumbledore had mentioned? He was considering attempting to ask his Headmaster for more detail but before the unyielding look on his face, he knew he would not get an answer. Harry would have to ask the man himself, Severus Snape. Dumbledore's features softened as he smiled downed at him.

-"I know you must be feeling terrible right now, Harry" Pain lingered in his piercing eyes as he took in the messy-haired boy before him. Harry felt the familiar sensation of being dissected, like he was boring into is soul. The wise old man quickly changed to a set expression of seriousness "But know this: it was Lord Voldemort who killed your parents when trying to destroy you. It was he who cast the killing curse, no one else. Snape passed on the information but he did not kill your parents. He did not know who the prophecy concerned. He did not know, Harry, that the prophecy was about you. He did not want your parents to die." He paused, before adding softly:

-"Do not forget who the real enemy is"

There was a silence for a few seconds before Harry broke out:

-"I want to speak to him. I want to speak to him now" There was no sign of doubt in his voice and he spoke with true conviction. He needed answers.

Dumbledore merely smiled again. His eyes were warm. His tone was gentle.

-"Tonight is not the night. I know how important it is to you but tonight, we have a very important matter to attend to"

Harry could not think of anything more important than getting these answers from Snape and knowing the reason for his parents' death. He was about to inform Dumbledore of this when he was interrupted by some wholly unexpected words:

-"My senses have lead me to believe I know the location of one of Lord Voldemort's horcruxes. I intend to travel there this evening and destroy it. Would you like to come with me?"


	6. Resolve

**Here is the final chapter of my "What If?" fan fiction. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It has been my first piece of fic and it has made me hungry to write more! I appreciate all your reviews. Thank you to all that added this story to their favourites, it means a great deal :)**

**I have nothing left to say except … Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Harry was very still for a moment, taking in what Dumbledore had just told him. After a while, he finally managed to utter a whisper in response to his Headmaster's pressing smile:<p>

-"You found a.. a… horcrux?" Albus Dumbledore nodded, his blue gaze suddenly intense behind his half-moon spectacles.

He, Harry, had been through so much today, or rather tonight, and here was yet another piece of news that he had not been expecting to hear. How many more shocks would he have to go through? How much more pain? How much more sorrow? Exhaustion was beginning to sink in. Still, he asked:

-"Where?"

Dumbledore's face turned gloomy and his tone was grim as he explained:

-"I believe it to be located in the cave where Tom Riddle tormented two innocent orphans as a boy. It will be a dangerous, truly perilous task, unlike anything you have every faced before." He paused, seemingly to add that extra effect to his words. He now had Harry's full attention. His red hot anger had evaporated at the mention of the horcruxes, and there now lingered anticipation, excitement, but dread and fear also.

-"However, I believe it is necessary for you to do this with me, Harry. If we destroy this horcrux, we will be one step closer to destroying the real man responsible for the murder of your parent. Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort " At the mention of the name, there was a sharp intake of breath from former Headmaster Armando Dippet.

Dumbledore had chosen the right words. Harry didn't even need to consider his mentor's proposal. He could still vividly remember the feel of his father's hand on his shoulder. He could still see his mother's emerald eyes dancing in the setting sun. The images were so strangely clear in his mind. The feelings that had coursed through him a mere hour ago were still strong. Happiness. Pain. Love. He wanted to avenge them. He wanted to end the man who had stolen them from him, who had prevented him from leaving a normal like everyone else. He would do anything to destroy him.

-"I want to come" Harry said, his voice full of resolve. He stood up straight away as he was ready to leave at that very instant. Dumbledore motioned for him to sit back down, chuckling to himself in a rather characteristic manner.

-"One moment, Harry. Before, we leave, I must brief you on the task ahead." He then stood up and glided towards the perch where Fawkes seemed to have fallen asleep, despite the racket Harry had caused. Over a dozen pairs of eyes followed his movements from the wall. He gently stroked the bird's burgundy plumage who opened his bright yellow eyes. Both bird and master now gazed down at Harry.

-"Fawkes was there to help you in the Chamber of Secrets when I wasn't. He was there to heal the wounds inflicted by Tom Riddle's Basilisk. Tonight, we will probably be facing much graver dangers. Yes, grave, grave dangers…"

He paused, apparently lost in thought, before going on, in the same firm tone:

-"You shall be assisting me this evening and I shall hopefully be there to protect you. However, I cannot be certain that something will not happen to me. I need your word that no matter what I ask you to do, you will obey. If I ask you to hide, you hide. If I ask you to run, then you must you run. It is vital that you understand this, Harry. Do I have your word?"

Harry nodded, unsure of the consequences of this agreement. He had a bad feeling about accepting Dumbledore's golden rule, but he knew that it was his only option if he was to travel with his Headmaster this evening.

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, mainly to himself. His eyes fell on Harry's and he added, in a softer and more temperate voice:

-"It is most unfortunate that we embark on this adventure in these circumstances. However, I need you to remain focused throughout. Therefore I must ask you, did you witness anything peculiar this evening after your…" Dumbledore paused, unable to find the right word "altercation with Professor Snape?"

He must be talking about the dream with my parents, Harry mused . How did he know? Could he possibly be practicing Occlumency on him at that very moment? Yet again, he had that familiar feeling that his mentor could see right through him. If he were to lie, he would effortlessly know. Harry decided to tell the truth.

-"I dreamt, or at least now I think it was a dream, about ... my parents. I saw my mum and dad"

He looked up to see that Dumbledore had gotten slightly teary eyed behind his spectacles and had stopped stroking his phoenix. There was another long silence around the room before the old man spoke in a carefully composed tone:

-"Harry, do you remember the purple potion in the cauldron that exploded when you dueled with Professor Snape earlier?"

There was no way Harry could forget it. Although Madam Pomfrey had rid him of the thick and heavy substance, he still felt like he was covered in it. He remembered feeling a peculiar sense of relief when it had disappeared of his robes but a lingering dreariness nevertheless.

-"The potion's name is Desiderium Cordis. Heart's Desire" Dumbledore spoke slowly, in a gentle tone. He walked back to his chair and sat down behind his desk. A heavy sigh escaped his lips before he launched himself into an explanation:

-"Much like the Mirror of Erised, Desiderium Cordis shows the individual, here the drinker, his strongest and upmost desire in the world. But it goes much further than merely being a reflection of that desire, like your parents were in the mirror. It creates a world for a drinker. A separate universe, if you will, although it is most unreal in reality. In this new world, the drinker can interact with the object of his desire for a limited amount of time, depending on the amount of substance inhaled. I presume that, in this world, you saw your parents?"

Harry absently nodded, solemn. It all made sense now, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed. Deep down, he knew that it couldn't have been a reality; his parents had been dead for 16 years. But that had not stopped him for yearning for it to have been real. He had wanted it for so long.

The Mirror of Erised now seemed useless compared to the effects of the potion. Desiderium Cordis was so vivid. And the pain at having been brought back into this world, at having being made to face reality, had been much more painful than when he had been forced to withdraw from the mirror.

-"Desiderium Cordis is a highly complicated potion to brew. It takes an extremely able potioneer to prepare correctly. Indeed it takes a total of 36 months, if I am correct. It seems you decided to confront your Professor at a most inopportune moment, when he was adding the finishing touches to it…"

Harry remembered the look of bewilderment on Snape's face which had seemed so strikingly out of character. He had been preparing to see his heart's desire, in a potion which he had been brewing for months. It was no wonder Snape had been out of sorts. And there was that look of deep pain when they had both reawakened… Harry couldn't help but wonder what Snape must have witnessed during his "dream". He couldn't imagine the bastard feeling passionate about anything. Apart from the Dark Arts, maybe, he thought. But what had pushed him to brew the potion?

Dumbledore could see Harry was going over what he had just told him. Interrupting his thoughts, he declared:

-"But the potions remains, after all, just an illusion. Albeit, an excellently crafted one. It does not do to dwell on dreams, as I am sure you remember. Now, if you were to exercise these dreams in say, the destruction of a certain Lord Voldemort's horcruxes, that would be highly useful" He smiled at his wit and pulled his dark travelling cloak before walking around the desk to stand next to Harry. He gazed down at the teenager.

-"Harry, I hope I have answered your questions. If any remain, I urge you to put them to Professor Snape on our return. For now, we have a matter of upmost importance to attend to"

Harry forced himself to forget about Snape. He must remain focused on the horcrux. He felt a knot of apprehension in the pit of his stomach. He remembered what Dumbledore had just told him about Lord Voldemort being the real enemy. This reminder filled him with resolve once more.

Dumbledore placed his right arm next to Harry's, waiting for him to grab it.

-"But Professor, you can't disapparate within the grounds?" Harry queried.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

-"Being Headmaster has its distinct advantages. Allons-y!"

And they were gone.

4


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